A Storybook Story
by The Last Good Name Left
Summary: This was before Inigo's wound reopened, and Westley relapsed again, and Fezzik took the wrong turn, and Buttercup's horse threw a show. And the night behind them was filled with the crescendoing sound of pursuit....


Grandpa said, "And as they reached for each other..." but then he trailed off.

He kept doing that, thought the boy, and it was getting annoying. "What? What!"

Grandpa shrugged and made to close the book. "Ah, it's kissing again. You don't want to hear that."

The boy squirmed. Kissing wasn't any fun. But Grandpa had warned him in the beginning that there would be kissing, and here it was again, and, well, the story wasn't over until they kissed, right? "I don't mind so much," he muttered.

His grandpa nodded sagely. The boy scowled. But all Grandpa said was, "Ah. Okay," and he started to read again.

***

When the most perfect kiss in the history of the world ended, with Buttercup rather having to hold Westley up so he didn't fall over again, he carefully took in the scenery. They were perhaps five miles from the castle, on a hillside overlooking rolling hills studded with farms. They had four lovely horses, Inigo's sword and his own, Fezzik's holocaust cloak, and about three legions of men tracking them to kill them.

It was a lovely evening, even if the wind was beginning to pick up a bit.

Westley thought he probably couldn't quite walk yet, but he could stay upright on a horse. Sort of. Probably. Getting down to kiss Buttercup had been slightly undignified, and all the jostling didn't quite make his joints happy, but that would go away. Hopefully.

"I think we should ride," said Fezzik.

"Ah," said Westley. Right. There was more to their flight than the opportunity to kiss Buttercup again. But seriously, five years, and only the one kiss before he had gone off to sea, and the last kiss had been with that idiot Humperdinck hot on their trail, and. "Yes. The ship is on the other side of the castle, however."

Inigo stared. "This was your plan!"

Really, the gall of some people. "I spent all day dead!" said Westley. Sure the man leading the horses could have predicted that the ship would be in the water, and would have lead them all towards the water. Of course, Cummerbund had always said that most people couldn't be trusted to lead.

"We will all be astride," said Fezzik.

"I think Inigo's dying, dearest," said Buttercup.

"Yes?" said Westley. The lyrical sounds of Buttercup's voice rather drowned out the content of anything she might say.

"Dying, dearest."

"I'll be fi--" Inigo said, and then started coughing blood.

Westley said, "This is bad."

"I'm very sad," said Fezzik.

Both Buttercup and Westley stared at him. The rhyming thing was cute, but it did rather illustrate why they shouldn't have relied on the man to lead them away from trouble. Inigo smiled, and then his coughing distracted himself again.

"He needs a physician," said Buttercup.

Westley sighed. "We're running from the Prince, who wants to kill us, on the way to our ship," he said. "Where, exactly, are we going to find a physician?"

"The Miracle Man," said Fezzik.

Buttercup looked at Westley imploringly. Westley looked at Inigo, now doubled over a small puddle of blood. He sighed again.

"I'm fine," said Inigo.

"With a health decline," said Fezzik.

"I'm fine," said Inigo, and passed out.

***

"Wait," said the boy. "Wait, wait, wait, wait. I thought it was over. They got away, there was kissing, it's over! The story is over!"

"It doesn't always end with the kissing," said Grandpa.

Clearly, Grandpa didn't share his sense of outrage. "Yes it does!" the boy shouted.

"Hush; don't worry your mother." said Grandpa. "You already know the ending, then? I don't have to finish reading?"

"Grandpa," whined the boy, "it always ends with kissing."

Grandpa shrugged, cleared his throat, and licked his fingers. "Miracle Max didn't have any suggestions about Inigo's health, except..."

***

Max put a bandage on the wound, poured something disgusting spiced with cinnamon down Inigo's throat, and told them to "get out of here! You're going to get me killed!"

"This is the true love?" Valerie said. "She's beautiful."

Buttercup blushed and straightened her skirt. People were always commenting on that part of things, and it was awfully tedious. Still, it was nice to be noticed now and again for all the hard work she put in.

Westley said, "Our romantic day is not turning out the way I had planned."

Both Valerie and Buttercup frowned thunderously and their mouths opened in tandem. Buttercup had no idea what Valerie had been planning to say, but her lecture was going to be one half an admonition not to belittle the fact that they were alive to together again, one half outrage that Westley was busy thinking about romance when Inigo was about to die, and one half admiration at his ability to take charge and make everything better. But before she could open her mouth, he continued.

"I suppose we should get to going, then," Westley said brightly. "It'll give me a change to use my sword."

"Your sword?"

"Well, ah, I--"

"Westley!"

"My dear--"

"Let's go!" He had spent all day being dead and rescuing princesses and saving outlaws, and now he wanted to use his sword. Really, the nerve. Although it was a very fine sword, from what she had seen of it.

"_The Revenge_ is on the other side of the woods, and I haven't had a chance to kill anyone yet," Westley protested.

"The woods that are crawling with men!" said Valerie.

"Those woods, yes," said Westley.

"We will fight them--again," said Fezzik.

"The men who are trying to kill us!" said Buttercup. Men! Fezzik and Inigo and Westley were all the same.

"Now that I'm almost up to full strength," said Westley, "we can get through them with no problems."

"Princess, do not fuss," said Fezzik.

The door to Miracle Max's erupted in thunder. Someone wanted to come in, and was willing to break down the door to get there.

Everything and everyone stopped breathing.

They stared at each other.

"I don't think the holocaust cloak will work this time," whispered Buttercup, and then she glared at Westley. "And you, Farm Boy, are still a bit wobbly." Swords, really. What was he thinking.

"Yes. Right," said Westley, a bit mournfully. "What other assets do we have?" he asked Fezzik. "Your strength, his steel, my brains, and a wheelbarrow?"

"The Princess' face," said Fezzik.

Buttercup turned her glare on Fezzik. Her face, indeed. Was that her only asset? "I think I'm in a bit of disgrace," she snapped.

"It might work," said Westley thoughtfully.

"What might work?"

***

And so, Buttercup, astride one of the white horses and accompanied by three female attendants, paraded through the forest smiling beatifically at the confused soldiers. Fezzik thought they were doing quite well. And to his surprise, he was getting almost as many looks at the Princess. He always knew he'd make a beautiful Lady.

"Um, Princess?" asked one of the soldiers, several of whom had fallen into a impromptu honor guard around the Princess Buttercup's traveling party. At least he imagined that's what it was; Fezzik had never seen such a ragged honor guard before.

"Yes?" said Buttercup.

"I thought you were getting married, Princess," said the man.

"I am," said Buttercup.

"You are?" said Fezzik, surprised. They had just rescued her from getting married, unless he was very mistaken. He was often very mistaken.

"Yes, I am," said Buttercup to the soldier. "Just not to Humperdinck," she hissed to Fezzik.

"Oh," said Fezzik, very relieved.

"Princess?" asked another of the men.

"Yes," said Buttercup.

"Where is the Prince?"

"He is preparing for the wedding," said Buttercup.

Fezzik grinned.

"Princess?" asked a third man, or possibly it was the first man again. Fezzik wasn't sure.

"What!" demanded Buttercup. "What do you want?"

Fezzik started; she didn't sound happy, although she was still very beautiful.

"Um, well, your companions aren't as beau-- they don't all look like women, Princess."

"Don't they," said Buttercup. "How odd."

Fezzik turned to Inigo and Westley. Westley's pale hair peeked out from under his lace wrap, and Inigo's corset--complete with bandage underneath--gave him a very nice figure. They both looked very much like women; in fact, if Fezzik had come across them in a bar and not known they weren't women, he certainly would have thought they were women. That thought made his head hurt, so he decided not to think it anymore.

"Yes, Princess," said the third soldier, and fell back to his place.

They progressed that way for several miles, silently. Fezzik enjoyed the light breeze on his face, the way the silk of his dress hung about his legs. It wasn't fair that only women got to wear such lovely clothes. Fezzik wondered if perhaps they could do something about that when they got to _The Revenge_. Inigo would know.

However, just as they reached the edge of the woods with its bay beyond and the promised safety of _The Revenge_, the thunder of hooves sounded behind them. Voices shouted, "Capture them!" Fezzik's veil tumbled down the ground. They were surrounded.

***

"But they get away, right?" asked the boy.

His grandfather didn't bother to answer. After all, what kind of a story would it be if they didn't get away?

***

Westley wheeled his horse and drew his sword, yelling at Buttercup to take Inigo and ride hard to the water's edge. "Hail _The Revenge_," he said, "I'll meet you."

"Fezzik," said Inigo.

"Yes?" said Fezzik.

"No being fair."

"No, Inigo."

Fezzik turned, but Buttercup immediately set the horses to a gallop, hurtling wildly across the loamy soil. Inigo didn't have a chance to protest further, but when he reached for his sword and found it slippery with blood, he decided it was probably for the best. He didn't really want to fight, either, now that he had killed the six fingered man. Arrows and shouts followed them, and the sound of more than a few screams. Buttercup kept twisting around to glance behind her; Inigo tried, once, and nearly fell off his horse. So that was out, too.

And then Westley was back alongside her with Fezzik on his other side. Unsurprisingly, Fezzik's horse could hardly breathe.

Alas, once they reached the bay, they discovered one missing aspect of the plan.

There was no ship.

"The ship, Westley!" shouted Buttercup.

"It's there," protested Westley.

"I know it's there, we saw it. But it's not there right now!"

"It's there!" he said again.

"Where?" demanded Buttercup, Fezzik, and Inigo.

"We're all alive," said Fezzik.

"Just in time to arrive," said Inigo.

"Hush," said Buttercup. "The ship, Westley?"

"There," he said, pointing.

And there she was, coming around the corner, sliding through the water faster than any other ship in the world. Huge, black, intimidating, and flying the banner of the Dread Pirate Roberts. Even knowing what he now knew, the sight made Inigo's blood run cold. It seemed to have a similar effect on Buttercup, and Westley noticed and wrapped an arm around her. "Ride?" he asked.

They rode.

***

After getting Inigo settled, with Fezzik busy eating his way through the ship's stocks, one of Westley's men showed Buttercup to the captain's rooms.

It was more luxurious than her own suite in the castle, and she spoke without thinking. "This is not what I expected," she said.

Westley stared, those stormy eyes boring into her. "What did you expect?"

"You were dead! The Dread Pirate Roberts--" It was not good. She had locked up her heart, but that hadn't worked, and now Westley was back and the ship was full sail out of bay headed for waters that Humperdinck would never venture to and they were alone and they were all safe, and....

"Shh," said Westley. "I'm fine."

Buttercup burst into tears.

Westley opened his arms to her.

***

Grandpa closed the book.

"What?" asked the boy. "What happens?"

His grandfather regarded him. "We've been reading a long time. You're sick, you need your rest."

"But what happens next?" he repeated. Grandpa stopped just when it was getting good.

"I'll read more tomorrow," said Grandpa.

"Grandpa!"

Grandpa said, "And maybe in a few years, maybe then you can read this part."


End file.
